


Trial by Fire

by tothefairest



Series: Completely Out of Hand [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Getting Together, Mind Control, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Original Character, Slow Build, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-17 14:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12368181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothefairest/pseuds/tothefairest
Summary: --Part 2 of a Series--(Inspired by the 'Modern Girl in Thedas' trope.)When a (yet to be revealed) magical mishap dumps a girl from our world into the MCU, what will happen?Friendship, Romance, Timeline Meddling, and passing moments of Crack await.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've kept the summary the same because I hate when I stumble upon a second part of a series and accidentally get spoiled for events in part 1. 
> 
> Sorry if it bothers or confuses anyone.

We're living on a countdown now. It's not exactly something a girl can forget. I might as well mark my calendar.

Sometime in the next few months Thor will be on Earth, Loki will probably come calling... and then what?

Is there anything we can even do to help? Tony can’t really fight magic. Not well anyways. He certainly can’t help Thor become _‘worthy_ ’. Maybe I could. 

Assuming Loki is completely right about me. Maybe I could nullify whatever magic this villain has, maybe I could help fight the Destroyer? 

I wish I knew how this all worked. I wish Loki would follow through on his promise to help me test my abilities. But no -- several weeks of silence told me he probably had better things to do, or he’d just forgotten about me. A few nights when I’d had problems sleeping I’d flirted with the notion of calling out for him, I wondered if Heimdall would pass my message on. 

I wondered how Heimdall could hear me at all if I was immune to magic. 

Not that I ever worked up the nerve to actually do it.

So that was that. Time marches on. Tony seemed more relaxed now, at least. Seemed to be taking the time to bask in his victory. Which, _good,_ he earned it. I just wished I could forget. Just for a moment, for an evening. 

It feels like an anvil tied over our heads...even more than Doom does. 

We'd gotten lucky there, really. If you tilt your head and squint.

When Shield first debriefed us we hadn’t had any idea why he attacked, or what he’d been planning...other than chaos. Which didn’t really seem like Victor’s style. 

But given a chance to calm down and think rationally, Sue and Reed think his real plan had to do with the launch they’d been planning in the coming weeks. 

Which -- _god,_ just hearing the word ‘launch’ in relation to members of the Fantastic 4 set off alarm bells in my head. Not that I was sure if I should be encouraging or warning them about it. I mean, depending on what version of their origin story we were going with the transformation might really fuck them up. Ben in particular. 

Still it seemed like a bad idea to deprive this world of four more prospective superheroes. Especially such heavy hitters.

And I’d be lying if a small part of me didn’t think of Reed’s comic book talent for dimensional portals. Maybe if we brought them into the fold, they could send me home. If I even still wanted that. If I ever really had.

Not like it’s up to me, anyways. 

They’ve rescheduled the event for now. With all the damage done to the Baxter Building and the lives that were lost it just isn’t appropriate. Not to mention they need to check for sabotage. Doom hadn't actually been working on the project, but it wouldn’t have been hard for him to get access. He was a trusted friend after all. 

But with Victor back in Latveria, building what was probably an army of Doombots and significant sorcery skills. It didn't really feel like we'd caught a break.

Tony wanted to go after him, of course. But invading a sovereign nation is a quick way to start a war….it was pretty easy to talk him down. Ultimately. 

Rhodey helped a little. 

Pepper was living in New York now, back to running Tony’s busy life, though she hadn’t lost the cold shoulder yet. Her romantic feelings for him must have softened the blow of the knowledge the first time around, or maybe she just resented having to learn about the whole superhero thing along with everyone else this time. 

Either way she was all business professional with me nowadays, and nothing but curt and cold with Tony. I hated it, it felt like she was punishing him for doing the right thing. I wanted him to stand up for himself. Hell, **_I_** wanted to stand up for him. But it wasn’t my place. 

They’d been friends for a long time. They needed to work this out between themselves. 

Basically...

For all the celebrating: the superhero themed parties, the rise in stock prices, the signing off on official ‘Iron Man’ merchandise.

There was an equal or even overwhelming amount of shit coming back the other way. 

So basically, come the holidays. Everyone is ready for a fresh start. 

Too bad ‘Fate’ doesn’t give out vacation days.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

** November 22nd -- 2010 **

“Seriously, that’s it? No joke? That easy? I’m in?”

“Assuming all the information you gave us checks out. You’re sure there’s nothing else Shield can offer you?”

“Yeah no, I’m happy as a free agent. Plus, you’ve made it more than clear that you don’t even _believe_ \---”

“The claims made as to your -- _ahem_ \-- origin are rather farfetched. You can’t blame the Director for being skeptical.”

“Yea, because other explanations make so much sense. I mean, everything about me just _screams_ ‘spy’. I’m sure Natasha’s given you her official ruling on that one.”

Coulson shot me a dry, unamused look and _finally_ handed over my Shield badge. I’m sure my security access was low as fuck, but it would get me into the building if I needed to talk to them again, and I’m sure flashing it at the front desk would forgo my need to make an appointment. 

They’d also offered me a company phone -- for use only in emergencies. Which… _tempting._ Really tempting. It had some numbers pre-programmed into it that I honestly really wanted. 

It also probably had: a tracker, a listening device, and hidden cameras with which to spy on my every move. So thanks but no thanks. 

I broke the silence, awkwardly.

“Well, peace. I guess. I would ask for it in writing, but I have a feeling shadowy dealings with secret government organizations don’t really hold up in court. Even _if_ you get them notarized.”

My only answer was a low hum as Coulson stood up to show me to the door. 

“Agent Romanov will be dispatched to contact the more hostile members of your list. She’ll see if they can be brought into the fold or if they need to be… _dealt with._ ” 

Yikes. I mean, that was awful to hear. The idea of murder didn’t sit well with me even if I knew the people being assassinated were horrible people. Even if I knew they would have died anyways fighting Tony, fighting the Avengers.

Hopefully they would listen to reason, or if not, hopefully they at least attacked first. 

“Just Natasha?”

“You would recommend someone else?” Coulson spoke in a way like me having _any_ opinion on a covert op was an amusing joke, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he escorted me to the elevator. A gesture that seemed polite on the surface, but really was only happening because I wasn’t allowed to exist on this floor by myself. 

“I would recommend you don’t send her alone. Vanko could have a suit by now for all we know. He’s dangerous. At least send Barton with her.”

“Agent Barton is significantly less experienced at adapting to that sort of environment.”

“That’s a funny way of saying he doesn’t speak Russian.” I responded glibly. “Look, he doesn’t have to infiltrate with her, if that’s how you’re going about it. Just keep him nearby incase things go badly. Just a suggestion, I’m obviously in no position to give orders.”

I gave him my media smile and wave as I stepped into the elevator, eager to get home for at least an hour of decompressing before I had to start getting ready for tonight’s party. 

But apparently Coulson wasn’t quite done saying his piece, holding his hand out to halt the doors as they tried to close. Making his sales pitch one more time. 

“Shield would very much like to retain your services on a more permanent basis Ms. Bowen. Please take some time and reconsider, we can offer you much more tempting benefits than the involvement in some nebulous future project.” 

I laughed as the door closed. “Yeah? Tell me that again when you find him.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“God. What am I _doing_ , J?” I asked, several hours later, forearm deep in the biggest turkey I’d ever seen. 

This whole thing was feeling more and more like a mistake with every minute that passed. Was this overstepping my bounds? Too ‘girlfriendy’? Overly transparent and affectionate? 

Maybe. It was definitely a bit presumptuous. I could be totally off base. Tony might be really annoyed with me. 

Well….too late to turn back now. 

I’d fought for this, painstakingly coordinating everyone's busy schedules for a free night. A private little not-quite-Thanksgiving, ‘family’ only. Sure. It may not mean anything to me. After all, I didn’t have anyone to invite. But I was pretty sure it would mean a lot to Tony -- or at least I had been sure. Now, at the last minute, I was starting to get a bit of last second jitters. 

He would like it. He had to. 

From what I knew of his life before, it was a pretty safe bet there hadn’t really been any ‘normal’ holiday celebrations going on. So I was going to try my level best to make this and every holiday we got to spend together special. Even if it involved a bit of secrecy and an uncomfortable amount of cooking. 

Tony was worth it. Especially when he smiled. 

Really smiled, not the practiced cocky version he put on so often when we went out in public.

“I believe you are filling an obscenely large dead bird with stuffing, miss.” 

I couldn’t help but give a small huff at that. Jarvis’ droll sense of humor was certainly grounding.

“I know _you_ know that’s not what I meant.”

I crammed a few more fistfulls of mix into the bird before pushing it aside and moving to check on the casseroles. It was too late for the pies. They would taste good, I was pretty sure, but trying to get fancy with the crust was my downfall. 

Actually, deciding that ‘homecooked’ was an important part of this was my first misstep. ‘Domestic’ wasn’t exactly a word most people would use to describe me -- and even with the world's most advanced AI guiding me through the recipes step by step it had still been an uphill struggle that I was more than ready to be over and done with. 

Honestly, It would have taken two minutes to hire a chef….maybe a bit longer to find one who could keep a secret but -- wait a minute. 

“Jarvis?” 

It wasn’t like him to clam up like that. Maybe this really _was_ a bad idea. How rude would it be to text everyone and cancel now? About 4 hours notice? Pretty fucking rude. 

“I believe Sir will be greatly moved by your efforts…”

“But…?”

“I do not wish to overstep.”

“Spit it out, J.”

“This is a gesture that could be very easily misinterpreted.” 

Whoop. There it is. 

“Too romantic, huh? Not really sure how to roll that back.” I mumbled it, mostly to myself. Feeling a frown pulling at my lips as I mulled it over. 

This was ridiculous. There was no reason to have fucking first date jitters over this. Five other people would be there, six if you counted Jarvis. Nothing would happen. 

Right? Even if I wanted it to. 

_Nothing_ would happen. 

Even if _Tony_ wanted it to?

I think that possibility somehow bothered me most of all. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forty minutes to party time and everything was right on schedule. 

I had been somewhat skeptical of Jarvis’ claims that he would be able to get Tony into the shower and dressed without giving the game away -- but so far so good. I could hear the steady sound of the water running through the walls. 

I would never doubt our benevolent computer overlord again. 

Unfortunately, there seemed to be some things that even his advanced algorithms couldn’t plan for. Like the fact that I was staring into the mirror, wearing nothing but underwear and bit of makeup, frowning at the crime scene that was my hacked off hair when Tony burst into the room. He was still practically dripping from his shower and wearing nothing but a loosely fastened robe. Holding a bundle of something that..

I abruptly forgot to be either surprised, self-conscious, or concerned about him uncovering my not-so-nefarious plot. 

“Jesus Christ, what is that _smell_?”

“Dummy spilt motor oil all over me, I don’t even know where he got it; or so much of it anyways. Even for him it was impressively...” His voice trailed off like he was distracted, or he’d forgotten why he’d come in here or what he was talking about. He dropped the collection of soggy clothes into my bedside trash with a loud ‘plop’.

“Why are you dressed?”

“I’m _not._ ” I griped, gesturing to my underthings and pretty pointedly not covering myself. He’d seen a million naked women anyways and I’d never exactly been modest. Running for cover would honestly just make this situation more embarrassing. 

I turned my attention back to the mirror instead and resumed the important business of hating my fucking haircut. 

“Right. So you’re just putting on makeup and wearing cute lingerie so you can lounge around the house. I’m into it. Give me a few minutes to throw on a tux and we can make it a real night in.” 

I sighed and tried not to shrink under his scrutiny. There wasn’t anything I was doing wrong. So why did I feel like I was being scolded?

Was there anything I could say to him right now that wouldn’t be an outright lie or just give my entire game away? And _hey_ now would be a great time for Jarvis to swoop in and rescue me. But it looked like I’d used up all my saving throws in that department. 

“Hot date?” he pressed as I stalled and continued applying my makeup. Continuing to sound less than pleased at the concept. And...yeah, I’d wager he wouldn’t like that much. 

I folded. I was absolutely putty in the face of his disgruntled expression. 

“I’m not “cheating” on you, relax.” the air quotes weren’t well received but I pressed on, “It was supposed to be a surprise, but my partner in a crime didn’t give me a heads up.” I shot a, obvious dirty look at Jarvis’ nearest sensor to make my point clear.

“We’re having Thanksgiving. Here. A _real_ one. Not a fundraiser or a gala or some crazy fucking party. Just our little circle. The bots can come too, if you want.” I shrugged like it was no big deal how he reacted, like this wasn’t an incredibly intimate and presumptuous thing to do for someone. “I got Dummy a pilgrim hat.” 

Nothing. No response. I was afraid to look at his face to see how he was reacting. Maybe I _should_ have asked him first. I just thought he would have tried to deflect, or conveniently become busy that night. Anyways, it was too late now. The guests would be arriving within the hour.

“Also, I cooked, so you’re not allowed to laugh at my ugly pies. That crosshatching thing is harder than it looks.” 

So I just kept my eyes on my own face in the mirror. Finishing up my lipstick. 

I jumped when I felt him step up behind me, eyes darting to his in the mirror, but his expression was impossible to read. It was definitely...intense though, and he was so close. Naked skin just inches away from my own. I knew he couldn’t be unaware of it, how seductive this situation was quickly becoming. 

I certainly wasn’t.

“Are you mad?” 

“Nope.” he said, his voice the same lighthearted reply I’d heard a thousand times but I was watching his expression. It hadn’t changed. Though at my concerned tone he brought his hands up to rest on my shoulders, a comforting gesture. Reassuring me, thumbs rubbing in soft, small circles. I could feel where his callouses caught on my new scars. “As usual you are almost nauseatingly thoughtful.”

His voice sounded strained, but I tried to smile and lighten the mood. As much as I liked doing this for him, I was almost as uncomfortable with emotionally vulnerable moments as he was. So..he appreciated it. Good. Huge weight off my chest. But I’d like this moment to be over now please.

“Am I? Maybe that’s just what I want you to think. Maybe I’m just angling for an extra special Christmas. How much do private islands go for nowadays?” 

He laughed taking another step forward until I could feel the full length of his chest pressed flush against me, the arc reactor humming softly against my skin. The wave of lust that swept over me was almost overwhelming. “And what would you do with some island in the middle of nowhere? You know they don’t come with internet access.” 

“Maybe a puppy then?” I said stupidly, sounding more than a little turned on. In my defense blood was leaving my brain at a frankly alarming rate. What on earth did Tony think he was doing? Was this a come on? It seemed like one physically, but otherwise it could be one of our normal conversations. 

Was he just expressing his appreciation? Maybe I was reading too much into it. 

“Actually, I’ve been thinking--”

Or maybe I’d been reading just enough.

I knew that tone. That was a seductive bedroom tone. That was a ‘sex is most definitely imminent’ tone. We didn’t have time for this. Literally, because guests. But also I needed time to think. If this was going to happen...god. All I could hear in my head was his voice, all those weeks ago, back in Malibu -- telling me he didn’t know how to repay me. 

Was that all this was? All his recent interest. This was...too much. Too intense. I needed to stop it. Delay it, at the very least. Abort. Abort. 

“I should get dressed,” I said instead, looking away from the image of his face falling in the mirror. There were smoother ways out of this situation. Sure. But I was never the type of person to keep a cool head in tough situations. 

Panicked and chronically turned on was a volatile combination for me.

He tensed up, I could feel it. But otherwise we were both frozen for a few seconds before I felt the soft gust of his sigh against my neck. 

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p’ hard and sounded almost annoyed, though at me or himself it was hard to tell. 

I extracted myself from his arms as gently as I could and threw an unsteady smile over my shoulder as I put some distance between us. “Just throw on something casual, ok. I told everyone we were going for an informal feel. T-shirt and jeans should be fine.” 

Then I disappeared into the closet to finish getting ~~myself together~~ ready. Trying and failing to keep my eyes off him as he turned to leave. He was shaking his head and muttering to himself as he closed the door. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner was...good. Boring, kind of. For me. But everyone else seemed to be having a pretty good time. 

Tony had brought up some indecently old wine from the cellar that probably cost hundreds of dollars a sip, and no one was grossed out by my cooking. Or at least nobody was saying so to my face, and Happy had already gone back for seconds. 

Dummy looked absolutely adorable in his stupid hat. I tried to get him to carve the turkey for everyone too, but as funny as it was to watch, it wasn’t very efficient. So we gave that up pretty quick.

The only real hiccup of the night came early on, when I opened the door and saw Rhodey. We’d met before, technically. He’d been by the house once to yell at Tony, right after he’d debuted as Iron Man, and then several times afterwards to see the suit or attend our parties. We’d never really had a one on one conversation though. And somehow I doubted I was making a stunning impression now, gaping like I was.

“Um, hi?” He said, in Don Cheadle’s voice with Don Cheadle’s face. Like absolutely nothing had changed at all. “Is everything alright?” 

Less than a week. I had seen him less than a week ago. Tony had just been out to lunch with him two days ago and clearly hadn’t noticed. So...that was just fucking incredibly weird. 

“Right, come in, everyone’s in the smaller dining room. I think it’s technically a breakfast nook or something but it’s the only reasonably sized area for….you’ve been here before.” 

His eyebrows had been steadily rising as I rambled and he gave an amused chuckle as he moved past me and down the hall. 

“You know I’m really glad you decided to do this? It’s usually an exercise in frustration trying to get Tony to come out for holidays, I should know, I’ve invited him out practically every year since we met. I know Pepper and Happy have a few times too.”

He paused at the entry to the room, I could hear everyone else already inside talking over each other. The sound of Pepper’s tinkling laughter raised up over the sound of the music. It was really a nice scene. 

“It’s just good to know he won't be out getting drunk and making headlines this year. You’re good for him, I’m glad you two found each other. ”

I just smiled. Unsure of what I could possibly say in response to something like that. But it was ultimately unnecessary, Rhodey was already going on ahead to join the party, pulling Tony into a warm hug and pouring himself a glass of wine. 

So that was it. Everyone accounted for. Let us drink and be merry. 

\---------------------------------------------

 _Hours_ later, after I thought everyone had left, I went to find Tony. But he wasn’t alone. 

I should have turned around immediately once I realized what I was hearing, it was a private conversation after all. But I was just too damn curious. 

“--n’t get it, Boss. Why now? Why this girl. What changed? I mean, she’s great and all. I’m not saying she isn’t. But what’s the story there. I’m not trying to pry...it’s just --- I get the feeling things are a little one sided.”

I winced a little. Yeah, I was pretty fucking sickeningly ~~in love~~ affectionate sometimes. Tonight being probably my most glaring example. I needed to tone it down. 

Even if Tony had _some_ feelings for me...which, honestly it was hard to tell. He flirted a lot, and I could tell I meant a lot to him. But: as a friend? A partner? A girlfriend? Or even something in-between - I couldn't decide. 

One thing I was absolutely sure of is that his feelings were nothing compared to mine. Not that I could fault him for that. He hadn’t known me for very long, and there hadn’t been the time for it to grow. Not like I’d had the years to bond with his character before we even _met._

It could never really be the same for him. He could never know me as deeply as I knew him. Even if somehow he did fall in love. Kind of a depressing thought.

“Langley’s … she's great.” and wow, lackluster compliments for 500 Alex, Jesus. If ‘great’ was the best descriptor Tony had for me I was definitely glad I hadn’t taken him up on his unspoken offer earlier. “But it doesn’t really have anything to do with her. I just don’t think that I could have been happy in a relationship before. Or...maybe that’s not right. Maybe I couldn’t have made someone happy. I don’t know.” 

“And now?”

Ok. That’s it. Too much. I left. Let them have their little pow-wow. I could go finish cleaning up the leftovers, put dishes in the sink, etc. 

Tonight was...nice I guess. Better for Tony than for me. But sitting here cleaning up in the solemn quiet of the kitchen, the refuse of the party all around me, I couldn't help but wonder if one day, maybe as soon as next year, I would be sitting here surrounded by friends. By Avengers. A world saved, the defeat of the Chitauri behind us. Relaxed, happy, comfortable.

It was something to look forward to anyways, to dream about. 

That I might, someday, have a real future here. 

A new life. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

That night was the start of something.

Not to be overly dramatic, but it seemed to be our breaking point. I know it was mine.

All my interactions with Tony just seemed to take on a new edge after that. Too much touching, too much _pushing_ of boundaries. I tried to shrug it off, explain it away. Tony and I were two people with very high sex drives going through significant dry streaks. That’s all.

And I…

Well, let’s just say I haven’t been having the purest of thoughts about him, in my alone time. I believe the popularly accepted term is _‘UST’._

It’s unhealthy. I’m not stupid, I know that. And neither of us are dealing with it. But...in the best circumstances this isn’t the type of thing I would be eager to face head on. I’m the non-confrontational type, remember?

In my moments of weakness, usually when I can’t take my eyes off the fluid motions of his fingers as he tinkers with some new prototype, or the rhythmic flexing of his arms as he’s working dents out of the suit. The moments when I’m wondering what his peculiar facial hair would feel like ~~when~~ if we kissed. 

I bet he’d be the kind of lover who laughs a lot during sex. I’d always liked that, being with someone who didn’t take the whole thing too seriously. Who knew how to let go and have fun with it. I wonder if he could really, _possibly,_ be as good as all the legends say. 

And then I ask myself if it would _really_ be so bad? If one of us just gave in? 

I believe the commonly repeated mantra is, _‘it’s just sex’_. I’ve had uncomplicated sex with friends before, it can be good, fun, _cathartic_. The problem with Tony is that I don’t think I could ever keep it _just sex._ I’m already too far gone for that. 

It’s a cliche, but I’ve never really felt this way about someone before. I just wish I could say it was all genuine ~~love~~ passion. But part of me is afraid I’ve sunk into a kind of hero worship, that too much of how I feel is based on his celebrity -- that I’ve put him on some sort of pedestal. Or that somehow I’ve used the preexisting knowledge I had to trick him into feeling the same. 

God, I could fill a notebook with all of the reasons this is a bad idea. 

It's strange, because clearly the both of us have decided this new thing is something better left unexplored. We’ve passed up so many opportunities to act on it, _hell,_ to even talk about it. But like a scab, it seems neither of us can help but to pick at it. We flirt, we touch, we dance around it.

We push at boundaries better left alone.  
And poke.  
And prod. 

One day one of us is going to find a breaking point. One day one of us is going to push too far. One of us is going to give in.

And then where will we be? 

………..

I’m not going to fuck over this entire world’s future just because I can’t keep it in my fucking pants.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** December 16th  **

My ankle brace is finally off.

The original hard cast has been gone for a few weeks, but I hadn’t been cleared for anything involving impact or strain until now. 

So welcome back high-heels, jogging, and hello combat training. It’s about time Shield followed through on that part of their promise anyways. As much as I was dreading the actual process, I’d been counting the days until I could start learning. I never wanted to feel that helpless again. 

Apparently I hadn’t been the only one waiting. 

The moment the front door of the mansion closed behind me there was a knocking sound. I turned around to open it without much thought, thinking Happy must have followed me up to the house without me noticing. And I’d closed the door in his face, oops.

But it was no one. 

Weird. 

Did people still ding-dong ditch? And if they did why wouldn’t Jarvis have scared them off? I’m pretty sure it takes some impossibly ballsy kids to prank a talking house. 

Confused, I closed the door again. Locking it this time, just in case there was something strange going on. Then, almost immediately, I felt something brush against my elbow, no definitely, it was a grip. I let out a brief yell in shock before I remembered myself, what world I was in, and who this most likely was. 

I pulled myself away with no resistance, before reaching out...feeling unaccountably that this was what blind people must feel like. I could see the entry hall clearly, but… _urg_ , magic...the concept that there was something-- _someone_ there I couldn’t see made me feel like anything could be anywhere.

My brain might be freaking out a little.

My groping hands folded around shoulders covered in thick leather and I all but groaned as I heard the heavy timber of Tony’s footfalls running up the stairs. 

“You’ve got to be _kidding me._ ” I hissed, reaching out to where I now knew Loki was to give him a soft shove. It wouldn’t hurt him, and it communicated my incredibly frustrated point perfectly. 

The air spoke, “I needed to see if touching you would negate the spell I had already cast on myself. I was merely testing.” 

I gave him a nasty look. That shit might fly with less suspicious people like Thor, but he could have cast anything on himself. Could have made an illusion or just shapeshifted. He only chose invisibility because it would cause the most stir. And he only chose to knock, instead of just appearing inside the mansion, because he wanted to get a rise out of me. 

Of course, then Tony rounded the corner. “He’s just here to --” I started. 

“He? He who? Jarvis said you screamed, what--” Even though I wasn’t looking in his direction, I could see in Tony’s face the second Loki revealed himself. That was his battle face. “No, nope, nu-uh. You, out, now.”

God, this was such a fucking headache.

“We can go somewhere else, but Tony, I need him--”

“You need him.” He repeated dryly, cutting me off. His inability to handle arguments maturely was unimpressive. Yet another reason to add to the list of reasons getting involved would be a very bad idea. 

Jealousy. 

Like I’d be interested in an interspecies relationship with a thousand year old magic, (allegedly) homicidal alien. Gross.

Sure. I had a rapidly growing soft-spot for Loki. He got dealt a pretty shit hand the first time around and it made me happy that things were looking up for the guy. Not to mention he’d developed a habit of rescuing me. But the thought of touching him in a more-than-friends-y way was not a good thought. 

“I need him **to,** ” I emphasized the word Tony had cut off, raising my voice and glaring, “help me figure out how my powers -- my _immunity_ \-- works. It’s important Tony. If I don’t learn my limits, the nuances of it, I could get seriously hurt. The battlefield is not where I want to be testing things out.” 

From the sour grapes look on his face I was guessing he had to concede my point. But Tony really didn’t like it.

“So...can we use the gym here? Or do we need to go find somewh--”

“Stay. I’m supervising,” he spat out, turning on his heel and storming off. Though I assumed we would find him waiting for us in the gym. Probably fully suited up. 

I excused myself to change into something more athletic. I wasn’t sure exactly what this was going to involve, but I was sure Loki would be thorough. He hadn’t chosen today by accident, he’d waited until the exact day I was healthy enough. 

He must _really_ be curious about all this. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

I knew shit was going to get even more unpleasant when I stepped out of my room and Loki wasn’t waiting for me. 

Sure enough, as I turned down the hallway to the gym I could hear the soft cadence of Loki’s voice. Almost musical, like he was telling a pleasant story, I just couldn’t make out the words. They cut off when I opened the door, and the two expressions that greeted me couldn’t have been more different. 

Loki and his self satisfied smile. The cat that ate the canary, and Tony looking absolutely _hunted._

Great. 

“What did you do?” 

“Not a thing. I was merely recounting tales of my many romantic conquests. Something I thought we might have in common. I believe Midgardians call it ‘bonding’.”

“God, you’re such a troll.” I scoffed, mostly to myself, “I’m sure most of it wasn’t even true. Anyways, Tony and I are a package deal, if you’re going to keep popping up--”

“Like a weed.” Tony interjected, helpfully.

“You need to at least try to restrain yourself. Don't antagonize him.” 

Loki of course, is looking like the picture of innocence. A facial expression I actually remember, disturbingly enough, from the first Thor movie. It makes me worry that the good I see in him now is just an act as well. 

“If you truly believe that in all of my centuries --”

‘ _Centuries?_ ’ I see Tony mouth, across the room. 

“ -- of life I haven’t bedded --”

“Oh my _god,_ just blast me already and shut up. Let’s get this over with.” 

“If you insist.” he smiles, and then there’s a rush of wind and a bright ball of energy is flying at my face. And there’s just enough time to wonder what happens if this doesn’t work before it hits me and just… _evaporates._

The whole blast vanishes. No, more than that, it just cut out. Like dead air, or a blocked signal. It hit me and then it just _wasn’t_ anymore. 

“Fascinating.” he drawls. And Tony and I exchange equally horrified looks as he steps forward and looks all around me as if examining...well, my aura, probably. 

Before stepping back with an expression almost manic. 

“Again.” 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

We learn a lot. Surprisingly. 

Tony gets weirdly into it after a couple rounds. It must be the part of him that thrives on experimentation, because he starts suggesting different variations. We put different parts of me infront of things to see -- for example -- if just my finger can absorb an entire blast. It can. If I can be burned by magical fire that’s already alight -- I can’t, but my clothes can. Luckily Loki puts it out before I end up testing naked. 

Loki thinks a spell to help grow my hair might work, since hair is dead and technically not really a part of me. It fits with the pattern, Tony says. But nothing works, and they get frustrated. Loki wants to see if I can affect or use magical objects but there are none at hand. 

Illusions can’t cover me. We already know I can’t use the bifrost, though I arrived through a portal -- so there must be some sort of nuance to that. I’ve appeared in several of Frigga's visions of the future, but she can’t see me specifically -- I’m blurry. Magical farsight can’t see me-- wait, what?

“But Heimdall. That’s why you even knew who I was in the first place. If magical farsight doesn’t work…?”

The question is implied, but surprisingly Loki looks just as confused as I do. 

“I thought you knew. We spoke of the infinity stones when last I was here. Heimdall is in possession of one.”

“The orange one.” I blurted, then quickly corrected, feeling like an idiot, “Soul?”

He nodded. 

Ok, that’s good. Great. I knew where all of them were then. Kind of. 

“You wouldn't be willing to inform me of the locations of the other stones, by any chance. I would most certainly be in your debt. ”

“You would be an all-powerful god-king, so no.”

“Yes, I rather thought not,” he said, even though his face said it had definitely been worth a try.

“But while we're on the subject you might want to tell your father to put the Reality Stone somewhere more secure before it finds its way back into Malekith’s hands.”

“You are referring to the Aether? I did not know they were one and the same. I will do my best to make sure it is relocated immediately.”

“Sorry…” Tony interrupts, “The what now? Anyone want to bring the baseline human into the loop. Whenever you're ready. ” 

Great. He was in a mood now. I bit back an audible groan. As much as I was beginning to like having someone else around I could talk with about these things, it was hardly worth it if it was going to upset Tony so much.

“I think we're done for the day Loki. I need to bring Tony up to speed on a few things.” 

“Yeah, sorry to bring down the mood by not being keyed in to all your mystical bullshit.”

“Jealous, Stark? Only children often are, perhaps you should learn to share.”

“Excuse me, assholes, I am not a toy. Loki, **_leave._** Tony, stop letting him neg you.”

 _Jesus._ This was obnoxious.

Now….

“I'm going to grab some dinner. Go take off the suit and _calm down._ We'll talk about the stones then.” 

\---------------------------------

** December 24th **

 

It was just about eight at night on Christmas Eve of all nights when Tony’s video chat popped up next to where I was lounging on the couch.

He came in on kind of a depressing scene. Not gonna lie. It’s the holidays and Tony has been away for almost a full week. Things had been tense after Loki had shown up, and it had taken barely a whole day for Tony to bail on me. Or well, that’s what it had felt like anyways. 

The reality of it was he was on a business trip. Or he had been, a few days ago he’d gone off the grid and all Coulson would tell me was that there were ‘complications’. A supervillain, a terrorist cell? I’m not sure. It wasn’t anything that would have come up during the movies. No challenge, no complications: no story. I certainly didn’t know anything about it. 

The only part that _was_ a big deal was that he was technically partnering with Shield. Though they weren’t sharing the details with me either. Apparently, if I wasn’t already pre-informed, I didn’t have clearance for it. 

Was this how it was going to be during the off-season? Just me, alone in a big-ass mansion. Making what felt like a million contingency plans for events that would probably _never_ happen and playing video games with Jarvis? Lame. Very lame. 

Of course, I had options. There were things for me to do, if I got desperate enough. Parties for me to attend if I wanted. Shield might give me something to do if I asked. Maybe I could help contact one of the people I’d put them in contact with? 

But really, it's not like boredom was the problem. It was loneliness. 

Here I was, all alone in a world where pretty much only two people really knew who I was -- and only one of those people really liked me. Since I’d arrived, there had been so much to do. Even in the quiet moments, Tony had always been there, filling the room with energy and light. It was hard to feel sad watching him, being with him.

It just hit home for the first time, the fact that no matter how badly I wanted it I couldn’t go home, couldn’t call. Would never see my parents or my friends again. It really had felt like I was just away on a trip, like if I really _really_ needed to I could get back. Somehow.

Obviously, intellectually I always knew that wasn’t true. But dealing with it emotionally was kind of a different process. 

I guess I was kind of due for a depressing Christmas. Twenty-six years of relatively happy holidays probably karmically earned me a few years of watching shitty themed movies and crying into a mug of eggnog. 

It would have been easier, I think, if the house hadn’t been done up to the nines in decoration. But it wasn’t like I could complain about that. Decorators had swept through here just a few days ago with absolutely no notice, telling me Mr. Stark had _insisted._ I’d tried to call them off, but after a small talk with Jarvis I started to understand that Tony was doing it for me. 

I guess he’d gotten the idea after Thanksgiving that I was into the whole traditional holiday celebration thing. It was sweet, him trying to give me a good Christmas even though he was...well, wherever he was. Not here. 

Not his fault I decided to get so goddamn _morose_ about it all. 

I hadn’t been expecting him to call -- I hadn’t thought it was even an option. Had assumed whatever he was off doing was too secretive or urgent. That he’d be too busy or that Shield would have forbidden him from making contact. 

But here he was, looking exhausted but just...so glad to see me. There really wasn’t any other way to interpret that expression. He just seemed to lose tension and melt into a lazy smile. Leaning back against the....honestly kind of sketchy looking bed he was lounging on. It looked like the sort of thing you might find in an ‘upscale’ motel. Maybe he really was laying low. 

Part of me had thought maybe this whole thing was just an elaborate way to avoid me. Pretty narcissistic, in hindsight.

“Heeey, sugar plum. Did you get my presents?” 

Reflexively my eyes shot over to the tree, which was surrounded by present boxes, but I’d seen those placed by the decorators. They were all props. I opened my mouth to ask, but Jarvis beat me to it. 

“Regretfully, Sir. She has not yet received it. I had gotten the impression you meant for it to be a Christmas present.”

“Right, well. Let’s bend the rules a bit and open ‘em a few hours early. I won't tell if you wont.”

I rolled my eyes but gave him a big smile before running off to fetch a surprisingly small box from his lab under Jarvis’ direction. 

“You know I didn’t get _you_ anything, right? I mean, it would be kind of pathetic if I even tried.”

“I think you’ve given me more than enough.”

He replied so quickly. Like he didn’t even have to think about it. 

God, it was so easy to forget he had this fucking hidden intense side. That he could be so blunt and -- dare I say it -- _romantic_ whenever I least expected it. I gave a nervous little laugh and tried to busy myself with unwrapping the beautiful box to hide my embarrassing blush.

I could feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion as I pulled back the final layer of tissue paper to reveal the contents. It definitely wasn’t anything like I had been expecting. I mean, I had no idea what to expect --- other than maybe a giant rabbit, about a year from now. 

But this just looked like jewelry, Not even particularly nice jewelry, though I was hardly the best judge. It was all simple, just a bracelet, earrings and necklace made from large gaudy diamonds. 

Weird.

“Yeah, I know. They’re ridiculous, sorry about that, but I couldn’t get the generator any smaller, and there still needed to be room for all the wiring so….”

Huh? Oh. _Oh._

“So these are….weapons?” 

“Uh, no, actually. They aren’t. The crystals snap off, and then if you press on the bottom there and twist they give off a minor emp charge and generate a small force field. It’s not much but it will stop a few blasts from the armor.” And probably a Doombot, which was what he really meant. “Not bad for a prototype.”

I picked up the earrings, looking at the design in a new light. I could see the button on the bottom clearly, now that I was looking for it. 

“They also ping Jarvis with your location and a distress signal.” 

“My own personal bat-signal, huh?” I murmured, well aware I was looking absolutely lovestruck at the things. Cradling them like they were priceless. “They’re perfect. Thanks, Tony.” 

I cleared my throat, trying to get some of the emotion out of it before I changing the topic. 

“Is everything going well out...wherever you are?”

His answer was a sigh, I almost regretted asking, seeing the way it made his face fall to talk about it. 

“It’d be better with you here.”

“Yeah? I bet you wish you had a bit of good old fashioned mystic advice right now.” I laughed, still fingering his presents in my lap, “You could wrap this up early and be home in time for Christmas dinner.”

Tony smiled, but it was a sad smile. I hated putting it there. Maybe we should really talk about this...but thousands of miles apart was no way to do it. 

“That’s not really what I meant.” he said, after an almost uncomfortable silence. Then, “Listen, Langley. When I get back…”

I met his eyes and there was an important question there. The one both of us had been pointedly _not_ asking for weeks now. 

I gave a small nod. 

“Yeah. When you get back.” I answered, once it became clear he didn’t really know how to finish that sentence. 

“We’ll finally talk?” he asked, and his eagerness made my tongue slip.

“We can do a lot more than talk.” I blurt, like an idiot. Almost immediately regretting my forwardness, but Tony didn’t seem to mind. He’s smiling again, clearly relieved. In fact, his whole posture relaxes, eyelids drooping. God, he must be exhausted. But he’d still stayed up to call me. 

“Yeah?” he says, slurring a bit, and I can think of dozens of things I would normally expect Tony to add. ‘Tell me about it’ or ‘can I get a preview’ or even some sort of phone sex joke a’la ‘what are you wearing?’. But nothing. I don't really know what to make of it -- how seriously he's treating this. 

“I promise.” He is almost literally nodding off on the screen now. I wonder how long he's been up for, if he's hurt, if anyone's making sure he doesn't push himself too hard. “Goodnight.” I say after a few moments waiting for a response that apparently isn't coming, cutting the call. 

I went to make dinner with a much lighter heart, already looking forward to having him back with me. My brain helpfully conjuring up all my most sappy domestic fantasies to shuffle through as I flit about the kitchen. Maybe there _could_ be something between Tony and I. It was certainly starting to look like a healthy possibility.

Sure, in the long run it might be a bad idea, but acting like it didn’t exist wasn’t working out so hot either. Even if I still wasn’t really sure his feelings for me were anything real. 

There was always going to be a chance it was nothing more than misdirected gratitude. Or maybe he’d just never been loved before. A sad thought. But after all, it’s so easy to love being loved -- and it was getting harder and harder to deny the fact that I loved Tony Stark as time went on. 

The worst possibility, by far, was that I was just the ‘love interest’. That because of my actions Pepper had been ruled out, so Fate had gotten off its ass and tagged me in. Because of course someone has to play the part. 

Jesus, that was fucking depressing. 

“Hey…”

I looked up from where I’d been totally fucking up a zucchini in my grumpy trance. 

“Hi, _again_ ….” I echoed, confused. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

He grunted and made a big show of resituating himself on the admittedly uncomfortable looking bed. 

“Can’t. Tell me about your week.”

I sighed, thinking I should probably insist he rest. He would probably need it. But what were friends for if not to rescue each other from spending a depressing night alone. 

“Ok, well, I am officially proficient at disarming six different kinds of weapons now. Thank you Shield. It probably wouldn’t kill them to….”

I rambled a bit, all through dinner. Tony didn’t speak much, mostly grunting at me to keep going. After a while I looked over at him, expecting a response to a silly joke I’d made and found him completely passed out -- face smooshed comically into his grungy pillow. 

I took a quick picture before I tried to cut the stream again. 

Nothing happened. The disconnect button was greyed out. Weird. I could probably ask Jarvis to override it, but it didn’t take a genius to guess what it meant. Tony didn’t want to be alone, and didn’t know how to ask. Yeah, ok. 

I set my phone down on the nightstand instead, so the screen was facing my pillow. I had to get to sleep, I was making a brief appearance in Tony’s honor tomorrow morning at a Christmas charity auction, but I could keep it nearby so if he woke up he wouldn’t be alone. 

His face was the last thing I saw before I fell asleep.

\------------------------------------

 

I didn’t hear from Tony again until almost three days later. I got a text that said: “Mission Complete! Wrapping things up. Be home in time to kiss you on New Years.” That made my heart jump in my chest. 

I typed out about twenty different responses before I decided too much time had passed and it was just too awkward to respond at all. Not that I had any idea what to even say.

We would talk soon.

Hopefully we would do more than talk. 

Soon.

 

\------------------------------------

** December 28th -- 2am **

It’s the middle of the night when I’m woken up by a loud crash in the middle of the house and the sound of a loud male voice shouting “No!!”. 

My reflexive response is panic, but Jarvis hasn’t sounded the alarm, so I’m not in danger. And after the invasion in Malibu his backups have backups, so I knew nothing was taking him out. 

Which means it was either Shield or Loki. Didn’t anyone call ahead anymore? 

I slid my bracelet on just in case as I headed towards the noise, my footsteps making the old wood of the house creak and groan -- even as I tried to be quiet. Not that our visitors could hear me coming, with the racket they were making. 

“Brother, we must go back! You had no right --” Holy shit, that was _Thor._ Thor was here? Were we doing this already? I thought we had a few more months at least? 

“I had no right?! You have brought father’s rage upon us, if it weren’t for you --.”

“Don’t let me interrupt!” I said, raising my voice to be heard over their argument, obviously meaning the exact opposite as I walked into the living room. The coffee table was broken and the couch was tipped over, but everything else seemed fine. “What’s going on here?”

 

“We’ve been exiled.” Loki spat at me, though his spiteful glare seemed to be reserved solely for Thor.

“ _We?_ ” I repeated, somewhat dumbstruck. Ok. I honestly hadn’t seen that one coming. 

Loki turned his head and looked at me, scrutinizing my face for a long second before his face twisted into an angry scowl.

“You _knew!_ ” he advanced on me, fists clenched at his sides and reflexively I took a step back, “You knew this would happen?”

“No!” I yelled, reflexively. Then shook my head. “I mean, yes, but no. I knew _something_ would happen. This is what I tried to _prevent._ I sent my message to Frigga and I _warned_ her what would happen. I did all I could.” 

“You could have told _me_ ,” Loki hissed, not looking at all assuaged by my defense. 

I opened my mouth to respond again but Thor blundered forward, all ego and no charm. 

“You know this woman?” He asked, towering over me and regarding me as if I were a strange animal of some kind. 

“Yes, he knows this woman.” _Clearly._ “Now hush, we can all be mad at me later for doing or not doing whatever you want. But right now I need information.”

I ran a tired hand through my hair, already kissing goodbye my hopes and dreams for the day ahead. Tony was coming back in less than twenty-four hours and this wasn’t exactly the kind of welcome I’d been planning on giving him. 

“Wait a second, you didn’t happen to get hit by a car? Did you?” 

They both stared at me blankly, as if waiting for the punchline.

“When you landed, was there anyone else there? Was there a car?”

“What is this car?” Thor started, but I ignored him in favor of Loki’s actually useful answer. 

“No. I guided our descent. We landed on a mountainside nearby and I transported us here, though it nearly drained me to do it. We saw no one and no one saw us.” 

“Nearby? There are no mountains _nearby._ Upstate, maybe. But that would be hours by car.” Better than New Mexico, though, I had to admit. 

“Do you know where the hammer is?” I tried instead. Though knowing my luck it would have fallen into the middle of Times Square. 

“Nearby where we fell. Fifty paces at most. But it is useless to us now, Father has cursed the damned thing, it cannot be lifted.” 

“Actually, it can only be lifted by those worthy of wielding it. That’s how the _magic_ works.” I said, stressing the word and trying to impart my idea to Loki without using the actual words. Not entirely sure how Thor would react to my half cocked plan. 

After a moment, he nodded. So I pressed on.

“Look, it wasn’t supposed to go like this. I’m sorry. It was supposed to be Thor. _Just_ Thor. Wait… since Thor is still here to ‘ _prove his worth_ ’” I said, putting on a voice for the phrase. “Then what the hell is your job, how do you earn a ticket back home?” 

Weirdly, something about what I said brought a shadow over Thor’s face. He deflated, rage and a need to act giving over almost instantly to sorrow. Loki didn’t seem changed.

“I’m here to apprehend the fugitive. She is to stand trial on Asgard for her crimes.”

‘ _Here comes a new challenger,_ ’ my brain memed helpfully. Whatever, I’d gotten three hours of sleep. Let's do this. 

“ _She?_ She who?” 

“Amora,” he answered.

“The Enchantress,” I finished, groaning internally.

“Yes.” Loki answered, and Thor was looking between us with a contrite but confused look on his face, like he didn’t understand quite what was going on. And why would he, I'd be the first to admit my situation _was_ rather strange. “One of my mother’s most promising students.” 

I nodded. Though I was almost one hundred percent sure that was a complete departure from her backstory in the comics. It wasn’t like that would be a huge change for this universe. The movies tended to play pretty fast and loose with villain lore. 

“Sit down,” I gestured to the sofa, and Thor re-righted the thing with one hand. “Tell me what happened. I have a feeling it isn’t going to be a very familiar story.” 

It wasn’t.

 

\------------------------------------------------

The cliffnotes version:

Amora had always been power hungry, driven, if you will. But just like Doom my interferences with fate started her on a different path. 

She probably would have lived her life as simply an overly ambitious member of the court, but then fate came knocking, and she got cast in the role of villain. Loki says she started acting strangely pretty much as soon as Heimdall received my message. 

Yay, me. Really changing things for the better. 

‘Accidents’ started happening to the other students, there were accusations that certain ‘forbidden’ tomes had been ‘borrowed’ from the library. Pretty tame stuff, villain wise. But most importantly, she had started pursuing Thor romantically. 

And, despite Loki’s warning that she was someone to stay away from, Thor had pursued her back. 

Things escalated pretty quickly from there. Thor was in ‘love’, Amora was too -- with his title. With the authority and privilege that came with it. She used his name and his attachment to her as an ever present threat. 

Don’t make me angry or I’ll tell the future king you offended my honor. Don’t report me for practicing forbidden magic or I’ll tell Thor it was really you who did it. You get the idea.

Unfortunately, Loki was on to her. He uncovered proof that Amora was practicing, if not using mind-control to get away with her machinations within the court. He had confronted her with the evidence he’d gathered and unsurprisingly she had run to Thor for protection. 

What Loki hadn’t been expecting, was for Thor to defend her. Even in the face of what Loki thought to be indisputable evidence, Thor remained convinced of Amora’s innocence. So Loki did the only thing that made sense, he tried to apprehend her. They would present the evidence to Odin and he would decide her guilt. 

Thor attacked.

They fought. First with words, and then with weapons. Right in the middle of court. The guards did not know whose side to be on. Whether to break up the princes or defend the heir to the throne. It was chaos. 

It was also exactly what Amora needed to make her escape --- one powerful magic artifact richer. 

Unsurprisingly, they were brought before the king. 

Loki apparently argued vehemently against Thor’s exile, convinced his brother would never have acted the way he did if not under mind control of some persuasion. He insisted a test be performed before the sentence was carried out, and when Odin refused, Loki bargained.

His own punishment was to be much lesser. A restriction of royal privileges and nothing more, for his repeated failure to report Amora’s crimes. But if he was wrong about Thor, let it be equal. 

But he wouldn’t be wrong. Of course. His brother would never chose a woman over him. Would never attack him in the grand hall with a clear mind. 

Of that he had no doubt.

\-------------------------------------------------------

The quiet in the room was heavy after Loki finished explaining what had transpired in Asgard. I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut against the sting. I may have been tearing up a little bit. Loki was growing on me, ok, and the fact that Thor had fucked him over like that --- especially considering….

Right. There was no point dwelling on that now. 

“And...um, Odin isn’t concerned that a magic, mind-controlling fugitive is on the loose down here on earth? That kind of seems like the sort of thing to be concerned about?”

Loki sighs and opens his mouth to speak, but surprisingly, Thor clears his throat and answers. The first time he’s spoken since Loki began to recount events. 

“Amora is in possession of the Warlock’s Eye, a powerful magical artifact. It’s origin is unknown, but the last person to possess it used it to lead an invasion against Asgard that nearly succeeded. I believe father does not want to risk such a thing happening again.”

I paused, confused about what he meant. Surely there was more risk, more time for her to build an army the longer it took to capture her. If Odin just let her roam loose on Earth…

Right. On Earth.

“As long as the Eye is not on Asgard it can do no damage there. I believe Father plans to strand her here. Let her wreak whatever havoc she pleases. The events of this realm are not our concern and without the Bifrost to welcome her she will find no way home”

I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. Fucking excellent. We didn’t even have any backup coming and the amount of damage Amora could do sounded _way_ worse than the Destroyer.

At this point, maybe I should just stop trying to help. 

God, where do I even start with this. 

I fished my phone out of my pocket, trying to decide whether involving Shield in this would be beneficial or just a disaster and a half. I mean, they might get involved anyways, if things--

A loud error noise made me startle and made Thor jump to his feat and try to pull a weapon he didn't have.

“Miss,” Jarvis spoke up, and I swear to god he actually sounded upset, which is one of the most distressing things I’ve ever heard, “I believe we have a problem.” 

A hologram of a web page popped up over the space where the coffee table used to be, it was a blog -- a celebrity stalking cite. Not one I was familiar with. But the timestamp said it had been updated less than five minutes ago. 

The title said, “ **Tony Stark spotted leaving Madripoor Motel with Mystery Mistress.** ” A few blurry pictures accompanying it, all obviously taken from far away in quick succession.  
For a few seconds I just stared at it, something in my brain going numb before I turned to Loki. Already knowing the answer before I asked the question.

“So,” I could feel my eyes tearing up as my nails dug deep into my palms. “That’s her right?”

The look he gave me in return almost looked pitying, but he didn’t hesitate to answer, “That’s the Enchantress. It looks like she won’t be as difficult to find as I thought -- though perhaps even harder to capture.” He shot a dirty look as his brother as stood from his place on the couch, “ Unfortunately, it seems as though she’s already chosen her new consort.”

I flinched a bit at the word, but it fit what I remembered of the character from the comics. Powerful magic but not that great in a fight, likes to seduce or control herself bodyguards. 

And now she had Tony, who had at least the Mark V with him…. 

“Right,” I said again, dumbly. Standing up almost on autopilot. I grabbed a jacket and the keys to Tony’s ridiculous red car. 

“Come on, we’re going to go get Mjolnir. And then we’re going to go rescue my boyfriend, and hopefully, burn the goddamn witch.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is consistent tense? FUCK.
> 
> I kept trying to fix it but somehow I think I only made it worse. 
> 
> Sorry.

\---------------------------------------

 

“This is a waste of time.” 

“Yea?” My voice was nothing but tightly controlled rage and sarcasm now, “Thanks for sharing. Because we didn’t hear you the first twelve times. Feel free to go wait by the car.” 

This is the part they always scene cut in movies. Because no one, I repeat, no one wants to watch their heroes trek up a samey fucking mountainside for half a goddamn hour -- somehow sweating **and** freezing their asses off -- looking for a magic hammer.

To say I’d driven recklessly to get here this fast would be an understatement, honestly, I was so tightly wound I don’t know what I would have done if we’d gotten pulled over. Probably not anything nearly as bad as what Thor would have. 

The atmosphere had been thick with tension the whole way, not a damn sound in the car except Jarvis’ occasional updates on Tony’s location. He still hadn’t left Madripoor, but the longer I monitored him the more I worried that he could just as easily be using Jarvis to monitor us. 

“It should be right atop that hill.” Loki called back to me, pointing, and I broke into a light jog. More than ready to get this leg of the adventure over with. 

God, if we got there and I _couldn’t_ lift the hammer Thor was going to be absolutely insufferable. Idley I wondered if Loki knew any _gagging_ spells….. and then I saw it. 

And the massive fucking _crater_ it had made for itself. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I muttered under my breath. Already trying to plan out how I was even going to make my way down there without climbing equipment. Carefully finding steady holds for my feets as I began my --- perhaps overly cautious -- descent. 

“It is unbecoming of a lady to speak in such a manner.” 

It was a testament to the way my day was going that my only response was to let out a slightly hysterical laugh, shake my head, and say, “Alright, whatever you say dude.” As I made my way clumsily towards Mjolnir. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

The actual retrieval of the hammer, was, dare I say it: anticlimactic. 

I would have thought up close I would have felt something, or it would have looked heavy, maybe impressive in some way. But honestly, it really just looked like a prop. 

There was a bit of a temptation to make a show of it, roll up my sleeves and _pull._ Raise it triumphantly over my head like Arthur with Excalibur. Really rub it in Thor's face, is basically what I’m saying. 

But in the end I just grabbed it. 

And then….after a few long moments of trying to figure out how on _earth_ I was going to climb back up while holding this thing, I threw it. 

Mjolnir landed with a resounding ‘thud’ up on solid ground and I saw Thor go to it immediately, as if somehow it would be unstuck now that I’d moved it, or something. Loki was just looking amused. He was also surprisingly a gentleman, going so far as to get on his knees and reach down to pull me the last few feet -- with ease, of course.

It was astoundingly easy to forget how physically strong he really _was._ What with Thor around, and with Loki’s reliance on magic over might -- but having him pull my full bodyweight up what was essentially a cliff without so much as a grunt was kind of a strong reminder. 

“Anyone want to carry me back to the car while I carry the hammer?” I tried, steadying myself on my feet as I walked over to grab Mjolnir essentially right out from under Thor. Not even waiting for a response as I turned to head back the way we came. 

Next stop, Shield headquarters. Because as much as I hated to admit it, we were probably going to need a little backup.

 

\------------------------

 

“Miss, you have several messages waiting for you marked ‘urgent’.” Jarvis spoke up as soon as I slid back into the driver's seat. 

“Okaaaaay…” I said, making sure both of my alien party members were firmly buckled in before I pressed the accelerator all the way down, “and how many of those actually _are?”_

“I may not be the best to judge. But I believe you will wish to see these four in particular.” 

The indicated messages popped up on the dash, over where the navigation and the radio were. I guess Tony must have tricked this car out a bit when I wasn’t looking. Like it wasn’t already space-age enough. 

They were from Rhodey, Happy, Pepper, and then Rhodey again. All expressing generally the same sentiment: they’re just pictures, the press is spinning it, don’t jump to conclusions, please at least wait to hear him out, he’s just getting cold feet. 

I had at least this to say for Tony’s admittedly small circle of friends: they were loyal as hell. 

For all the world to see he was cheating on me. There was no other logical conclusion to draw unless you had a whole lot of extra information. But still, here they were, trying to argue his side. 

I read the messages a few more times, unsure of how to respond. As a girlfriend I had never been the jealous type. If they _had_ been real pictures, and we had been in a real relationship...which, fingers crossed: my honest first response would have probably been to calmly ask him to explain himself -- and if it turned out there really was something to it, I would probably immediately start trying to arrange a threesome. 

And then afterwards I’d dump him for cheating on me. A girl's got to have her priorities straight.

But I knew that probably wasn’t the answer they were all expecting to hear. So I just swiped the messages aside, unanswered, and took my exit. 

“What about all the others?” 

“Most are emails, sent in response to the continued media coverage of Sir’s sightings with the alien fugitive. The public seems to be awaiting your response.”

Damn, that one I kind of had to address. Keeping silent would just make it look like we were hiding something, like Tony was guilty. There was no way I could let him take that hit, this was the opposite of his fault. Not to mention the stocks had _just_ recovered. 

“Well, I would run anything I say by Pepper -- but I’d go with either the ‘open relationship’ story or maybe try to claim she’s some relation of mine? Getting to know the girlfriend's family isn’t the worst story right?” 

It might be even worse, of course, if she decided to kiss him in public or something….but I honestly wasn’t even sure if she was interested in that side of things; or if she only wanted him around for his big, shiny, missiles. 

_‘Thank you for understanding.’_ Pepper responded almost immediately. 

God, if she ever found out the truth about all of this she was probably going to really hate me. 

“Actually Jarvis, go ahead and send out responses to everyone. Make sure it’s clear that I’m not upset and that my love and trust for Tony has never wavered. That should stop any undue meddling, at least for a while.” 

“Off course, Miss, and what should I tell Shield?” 

The question made me startle a little. 

“Why? Did they say something?” as far as I knew nothing should have tipped them off yet that anything worth their notice was even happening. 

“Not as of yet. Although I believe it may be best to give some warning if you are still intending to show up on their doorstep with several aliens in tow.” 

Ok, yeah, smart. I could see why maybe that would be a good idea. 

“Right. Patch me through to Coulson please, J.” 

_________

 

“Miss Bowen. I’m surprised to hear from you, gossip around the office says you might be having a rough day.”

“That’s funny, I wouldn’t have thought Shield agents were interested in celebrity gossip.” I countered and then almost immediately thought of his trading cards, of his friendly conversation with Pepper at the beginning of the Avengers. 

Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to pigeonhole the Shield squad. 

“Was there something you needed our help with?” he pressed, and it was easy to be sucked in by the calm authority in his voice. Even though I knew Shield was laughably ill-equipped to handle this -- _‘hopelessly, hilariously outgunned’_ I believe Fury would once have said.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything like a Magneto helmet on hand would you?” 

“I’m not sure that I follow.” 

And oh, yeah, right. X-men weren’t a thing here. 

“We may have a bit of a mind-control situation on our hands. I would say don’t panic, but that would be kind of hypocritical, I think.” 

I heard a sudden rush of noise on the other end of the call and then I could tell he was on the move. Though he didn’t sound at all flustered when he answered, “I’ll prep everything we’ve got, but it’s all experimental. I think you should come in.”

“Already on my way. Let the front desk know I’m bringing guests.”

“We’ll be waiting.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

“So how does this…. _relic_ work exactly?” Fury asks, when Loki and Thor are finally finished recounting their tale. 

“Magic.” Loki says, in a flat, droll tone that clearly says he thinks Fury is an idiot for even asking.  
Thor makes an annoyed noise and continues pacing. He has been rather repeatedly insistent on action over discussion. Though what action he thinks we should be taking isn't clear. Mostly I think he's just whining. 

Emotionally mature, _worthy_ Thor from the movies might be a person I'd eventually like being around. But right now I’m having trouble seeing _this_ Thor as anything more than just a bratty prince. 

Still, I look up from my phone for the first time in a while. We've been re-treading familiar ground as far as I’m concerned, and it’s been hard to pay attention to the retelling when I had the option of watching Tony‘s little red dot blinking on Jarvis’ tracing app instead. Still in Madripoor, though he’d now officially missed his scheduled flight home. Though I don't know why I'd been expecting anything different. 

God. What was he even going through right now? Was Tony even aware he was being controlled? Was he trapped inside, fighting it and failing? Was he a mindless zombie, just a puppet on her strings. Would he even remember what had happened once I got him back? 

“....an amplify all magic abilities, but most notably is used for mind-control. Supposedly--”

“Come again?” I interrupted, “I thought Enchantress already _had_ mind control powers. Isn't that her whole M.O.?”

“Amora’s mind control without the Eye is imperfect. The spells required take enormous amounts of energy and focus. She could likely only influence a few individuals at once and even then there would be limits. An individual with a strong will could break her thrall easily enough.”

“And _with_ the Eye?” Fury pressed, leaning over the table as if he thought he could intimidate Loki into giving information. As if he could intimidate Loki at all.

“I am unsure. I have never seen it used. I know for Aesir it is still possible to resist, in theory, but I doubt any mortal could. She could almost certainly control many individuals at once, and from a much greater distance without straining herself.”

“And he...I mean, does he --- what is it like like for the person being controlled?”

“I could not say.”

“Alright,” Fury started, but stopped short when Thor brought his fists down hard on the metal table, leaving significant dents in it’s surface. Though the Director didn't so much as flinch. 

I had plenty of problems with Fury, but I honestly had to respect him for that. 

_Thor_ I did not respect. All day I had been reminding myself he would one day be a noble hero. I'd been keeping my temper balanced on a knife's edge by repeating over and over to myself that infighting would only slow us down...that there was enough 'hurry up and wait’ going on as it was. 

But now, as the god of thunder opened his mouth to no doubt complain yet again that we were talking when we should be acting -- I snapped.

“No, don’t even start! That's enough from you, I swear -- did you hit your head on the fall down? I _know_ you must have some knowledge of battle tactics in there. What do you _think_ will happen if we just charge in headfirst; no plan of attack, no backup?”

Thor stepped into my space, towering over me, “I have faced foes far mightier than-- ”

“Not like this you haven’t, not when you aren’t at full strength! Not without Mjolnir or your warriors at your side!” I was all but screaming, pushing back from my chair so fast it clattered back onto the floor and stepping right up to him. Refusing to let myself be intimidated. 

“You think you're the only one who wants to get at her?! The only one who wants revenge, who has something to prove? She has my-- she has **Tony**! Trust me when I say I want to pummel her into the ground as much as you do, but it's not that simple. If we do this wrong we could all die, innocent people could die so just …”

I exhaled sharply through my teeth, cutting myself off. This tirade wasn’t going anywhere productive. God, I was getting hysterical. I needed...well, probably food and a nap. But since I wasn’t going to get those anytime soon, at the very least I needed to calm down.

At least Loki looked amused. 

“Are you _both_ done?” Fury finally asked, after pausing for a long moment to stare down his nose at Thor and me. I just nodded, still trying to focus on gathering myself.

The juxtaposition between the two of them: Fury's almost supernatural calm demeanor vs. Thor’s wild eyes and heaving chest --- was something I probably would have found amusing under normal circumstances. Right now I was just too drained. 

“What action do you then propose?” Thor finally asked, sounding somewhat chided. I had my own ideas as to how we should approach the situation, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to get a second opinion from someone who did this for a living. 

“Lure her into an isolated area. I'll leave that part up to you. Shield will set up a strike team around the designated location, stop any civilians from coming in or out. I'll equip our agents with closed system headsets, as well as all our workable prototypes on the off chance that will make any difference. Other than that, weapons and transportation are all we have to offer.” 

Thor perked up at the mention of weapons. Of course, and I immediately suggested he go with Coulson to get ready for ‘the coming battle’. I already had a duffle bag downstairs with a uniform and a few guns I'd been learning to use inside. 

It was a bit of a let down to hear we would only be getting a single squad and a quinjet. Loki and _his_ mind control crusade had netted him a whole damn helicarrier and all the troops Shield had to offer. Although, I gather being officially in a state of war...as well as previous experience with Asgard might have something to do with that. This was our first go around, really -- and Amora had yet to do any real damage. 

The real question was: did we go to Amora or did we make her come to us? Madripoor was less populated, and definitely had places where no one would bat an eye if a firefight went down. That was important. Whatever she might make Tony do, it wouldn't be his fault. So nobody needed to know. It definitely didn’t need to get caught on camera. The public would never understand. 

“We should take the fight to her. Offer her freedom. Loki and Thor are the only ones in this realm who could possibly challenge her --- I mean, that's not _true,_ but I'm sure that's what she thinks. With them gone she won't have to look over her shoulder anymore.”

“You can't really think it will be that simple.” Loki sneered. His bad attitude gnawing at me. Not that I could really blame him. Getting kicked out of your home for standing up for your brother sucks ass. I just didn't think he needed to take it out on me. 

Whether he knew it or not I had good reasons for not telling him about the exile. The most prominent of which was his own origin story. I had a feeling he still didn't know ~~what~~ who he really was. And if I was going to spoil the story it was kind of a crucial element to skip. 

“It could be.” I pressed on, “but if for some reason she turns out to be a choosier customer, well….I know where some pretty rocks are buried.” Adding an overly exaggerated wink for style. 

Fury looked between us, eyebrows raised. 

“Are we speaking in code now?” he condescended.

“Less than you might think.” was my only answer. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It felt like it took ages before the quinjet was ready to take off. 

I watched Thor take on about thirty Shield agents at once in the gym, looked through all the new paparazzi shots of Tony and Amora lighting up Madripoor. As far as I could see all she was doing was making him spend exorbitant amounts of money on her. 

Exorbitant for _Tony,_ even. 

I saw the official statement put out by the Stark PR team earlier in the day: Amora was an old friend of Tony’s, he would never cheat on me and was appalled by the accusation... but the lack of any actual statement from Tony himself was pretty damning, and public opinion was not on his side. 

“You realize it will have to be you that does it.”

I paused. Looking up at Loki, who had changed himself to fit in with the agents. An all black uniform and hair pulled back. I almost wanted to snap at him for interrupting my brooding, but it would just be my lack of sleep and my desperate worry for Tony talking. 

“Oh, are we talking now? I thought you were righteously pissed.” I said instead of trying to guess exactly what he was talking about. 

“I am not.” He spoke softly, lowering himself into the bench beside me. “At the time I may have been too distraught to notice, but when my brother and I arrived you meant to help us even before Stark became involved.”

“What? Yeah. Of course I did. I would---”

“At the time I took your assistance for granted. You did not have to help, in fact, I only directed us to your manor because I believed you owed me a favor. But it never came to that. You offered us aid without prompting. ”

“That surprises you?”

“Discovering that I have come to consider you a friend surprises me. My brother's betrayal surprises me. And in truth I think that has been the sum total of my surprises in the last hundred years. Though I fully expect more will come, if I continue to seek out your company.”

_‘Bet I could add one more to that list.’_ I thought, depressingly as I tried to offer him a smile in return. 

“In the future, just try to remember: if I keep something from you, I at least think I have a good reason. I don't like lying to my friends.”

He gave a nod that was solemn enough I assumed he got the gravity of my point. 

“So….. what is it that I'm supposedly doing?”

“Facing Amora. You must realize you are the only one who can reliably resist her compulsions. If we are hoping to get up close and incapacitate her, it must be you who deals that blow.”

The very idea of facing an Aesir in an actual fight had me sick to my stomach. Even with all my advantages. 

“Not much room for error, then, she may not be much of a fighter but once she realizes her magic can't affect me it's not like she'll have a problem kicking my ass. All she has to do is land one punch---one _slap_ even--- and I'll be toast.”

“Then work quickly.” he said, words light but face grave, “My brother and I will do our best to keep any of her minions away from you, lead the bulk of the fight elsewhere. Then you strike.”

I nodded. It wasn't like I could think of a better plan. I just had to not blow it. No big deal. The only things on the line were the lives of: the man I loved, my only friend in this brave new world, a bunch of redshirts, and me. 

Talk about no pressure. 

\-----------------------------------------

 

Finally. Finally. The goddamn jets are taking off. 

Which is great, because one step closer to getting Tony back (and other important things, of course. Blah blah blah, worthy, blah blah). But it’s still not enough to soothe my nerves -- since the flight to Asia itself is going to take around fifteen hours. Far shorter than it would be on a commercial airliner but still... I’d be biting my nails the whole way. 

A fucking lot can happen in fifteen hours. Part of me is pretty righteously pissed off, because I _know_ Shield can rally faster than this. Fury took the extra time to make sure everyone was extra properly briefed and extra equipped. He sacrificed time for effectiveness and that's probably the smart decision --- it's just hard for me to appreciate right now. 

Right now it’s early morning in Madripoor. By the time we arrive it will be the middle of the night, or early morning on the 30th if we make bad time. Amora will have had two whole nights with Tony by then….. so I really, _really_ hope she's not interested in him for anything more than his money and his power. Or Loki will be lucky to take her back to Asgard in recognizable _pieces,_ yet alone alive.

“Wheels up in five!” One of the agents in charge calls out. Music to my ears. I all but leap up from my seat. Loki following close behind me, albeit at a much more sedate pace. 

From across the hangar I can hear Thor’s booming voice telling someone he ‘must go’ and that he will ‘return victorious’. I roll my eyes, knowing that if everything goes according to plan he likely won’t be returning at all. At least not for a long goddamn time. 

I strap myself into the jet and immediately pull out my phone again to check Tony’s tracking dot. Honestly, it’s becoming a bit of an obsession. But instead I get quickly sidetracked by a new series of texts from Happy. First asking if I’m at the house, if there’s anywhere I need or want to go. Then again about thirty minutes later, asking when I will be home. There’s a weak effort there to disguise it as a simple professional interest. He needs my schedule to know when and where to be….

But it couldn’t be more clear. He’s worried that I’m moving out. 

God I hate this day. 

‘Staying with a friend for a few days,’ I lie, hopefully smoothly, ‘nothing to worry about.’ Before instead opening my last conversation with Tony. It’s masochistic, I know. But it’s hard to resist, just staring at the blank text box. Wondering if he would respond if I sent a message. If I _called._ Or if only his voicemail would answer, or _worse,_ Amora. 

I sincerely doubt she has any idea how to navigate technology after being here for hardly a day, but the thought is still enough to deter me from trying. As tempting as the idea of hearing Tony’s voice might be right now. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

The sway of the plane lures me into sleep a few times, but it’s fitful at best. 

In the middle of the night. Most of the way over the Pacific Ocean, my phone buzzes with a new text.

It’s from Tony, and I can feel my heart in my throat as I read the three little words on the screen. 

_‘Please stay away’_ it says. 

God, it hurts to picture Tony somewhere. Watching my little dot the way I’ve been watching his. I know why he must not want me there, what it is he must be afraid of. 

But still….

_‘Never’_ I finally send back. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s still dark when our wheels touch down on a long sandy strip of Madripoor beach. Nothing much around to be seen or to see us. 

The city proper looms, bright and colorful in the distance. It doesn’t look very special. Not so different really from New York, or maybe more like Vegas. With the buildings just a bit more piled on top of each other than I’m used to. Though I know some of the things that go on here are anything but usual.

It certainly isn’t ominous in any way. Doesn’t look like a place for a final battle, but then again, neither had the Baxter Building. 

Two big black vans are sitting out waiting for us. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Shield had people everywhere, that was why they were so useful --- to me _and_ to Hydra. 

“Ok…” I start, as the last of the agents unload from the jet and start strapping seemingly endless weapons to themselves. “Let’s start heading towards the city. Loki, I know it doesn’t work with me, but you can get a message to Amora, right? Tell her to meet us on the outskirts of ---”

My phone rings and everyone freezes. The words _‘Call from Tony Stark’_ flashing on my screen. A deceptively happy picture of the two of us proudly on display. 

“Jarvis. Answer. Speakerphone.” I finally choke out, eyes darting around for emotional support I’m not going to find. Not in this crowd. 

“Greetings darlings!” Amora’s voice is almost obnoxiously high-pitched and saccharine as it cuts through the silence. For some reason that catches me off guard more than anything else. Amora looks like someone who should have a deep and sultry voice. I’d imagined her using measured words, calm and manipulating. Not…. _this._

“I do hope I'm using this thing correctly. I must say, for all his many charms, dear Anthony isn't the most patient teacher.” The use of his full name made me cringe hard. Tony hates that, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was why Amora was even doing it. 

More than anything I was wishing this was a video call. I wanted to see her face. Wanted to see if Tony was there with her, if he was ok, if he was visibly upset or enamored or….

I just wanted more information, wanted to know he wasn’t suffering for every minute we wasted not rescuing him. At this point I would take any scrap of information I could get. 

“Tell me…” she purred, after a pause -- presumably for dramatic effect. “Is my darling Prince with you? It was such a shame things had to end the way they did between us. He was ever so fun while it lasted.” Amora’s laugh is obnoxious and mocking. 

Behind me Thor lets out what can only be described as a roar. At least he isn’t at full power right now, because I find it hard to believe there wouldn’t be one hell of a goddamn storm brewing. 

Not that I don’t have more than a few choice things I would like to ~~scream at~~ say to Amora myself, and with just a brief glance to my right I can tell that Loki probably does too. His face a mask of pure disgust and loathing. 

Luckily Enchantress isn’t subtle. Everyone -- Thor possibly excluded -- can tell she’s just taunting us. Trying to get us worked up. It’s best to just let her ride this out. There has to be a point buried somewhere in this trashy monologue. 

“Fine.” Amora practically spat the word, clearly disappointed no one but Thor was rising to her bait. “You have something which I desire, and I just so happen to be in possession of something of yours. We will meet at the location Anthony is sending you now. Be there by sunrise and perhaps we can arrange a trade.”

My eyebrows flew up, it was exactly what we were going to propose, which was incredibly suspicious. Normally I would suspect that Tony was using Jarvis to get an advantage somehow. Listening in through my phone, maybe? But I had reason now to doubt he was proactively helping.

Tony was a _great_ teacher. He had helped me learn my way around all sorts of new technology since I arrived, not to mention understand a whole new political climate and alternate world history. If Amora was having trouble getting him to explain things to her it must mean he was being intentionally difficult. 

This was either a _‘direct orders only’_ situation or Amora just wasn’t that good at using the Eye yet. 

It gave me a surprising burst of hope. That he was fighting her compulsion was really the best case scenario. If any human was stubborn enough to break free of mystical alien mind control it was Tony Stark. Maybe he wouldn’t need too much dealing with after all. 

I was just about to open my mouth to ask Amora about the specifics of the exchange when she ended the call abruptly, leaving me confused and more than a bit frustrated.

“Well, she’s a real charmer. Isn’t she?” I mumbled after a few seconds had passed, still feeling vaguely sick to my stomach, “What is it you figure she wants?” 

“Other than to see our corpses cooling I can hardly imagine.” Loki supplied, cheerfully. 

I gave him a dry look and turned to Thor, “Any ideas?”

For a second he opened his mouth as if to respond, but he seemed to rethink it. Shaking his head. 

“She is not the woman I thought I knew, what would I know of her motives now.”

Fair enough. I thought, and instead went about affixing all my weapons neatly to their holsters. _Including_ Mjolnir, which Thor had reluctantly helped me rig up a simple fastening for on the plane. I may not be able to meet the ‘worthy’ requirement because of my _condition_...but a magic weapon was a magic weapon. Hopefully it would still pack some kind of a punch if Amora backed me into a corner. 

Well, ok. Let’s do this.

Having everyone look to me for leadership was just too weird. I really wasn’t cut out for it. What was I anyways? A barely trained, indecisive civilian who just happened to fall into the right universe? I mean, if I’d landed somewhere in Middle Earth, or fucking Azeroth I’d be well fucked.  
I definitely shouldn’t be the one in charge here. 

“Alright, we proceed as planned then. Let’s go scout out this meeting place,” coordinates had arrived via text practically the moment Amora had told me to expect them. They were gibberish to me, but I knew Jarvis would know exactly where to direct me. “We’ll use the extra time to set up an ambush and familiarize ourselves with the area.”

After that there was nothing to do but wait.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

And wait we certainly fucking did. 

Luckily the area Amora had picked seemed to suit our needs quite well, apparently she didn’t want to be seen causing a ruckus any more than we did. The ruins (and you would be hard-pressed to call them anything else) were on the very outskirts of the city, a place covered in graffiti and filth that was mostly abandoned or rundown. 

It certainly didn’t _look_ like anyone still lived here...or had for some time. But it would probably still be best if we tried not to destroy anything during the battle. We still had no idea where Amora would approach from, but the agents that accompanied us set up shop on rooftops and down alleys -- securing the perimeter as much as they could. 

Thor and Loki waited out in the open, a clear and alluring target. Bait -- if you want to be tactless about it. While I hid just inside one of the burnt-out shops, waiting for my opening. _Any_ opening.

I had adamantium shackles from Shield, hastily enchanted to block magic by Loki. A stopgap to silence Amora just long enough to return her to Asgard. 

Theoretically, all we have to do is separate her from the Eye for more than a few seconds...maybe a minute or two. Sever her magical bond with the artifact, weaken her powers, free ~~Tony~~ her slaves. 

After that her powers should be reduced enough that Loki and Thor would have no trouble taking her out. 

That was the dream anyways. 

The more pressing problem, really, was Tony. 

From my memories of ‘The Avengers’ I knew that Thor at full strength was just about an equal match for an Iron Man suit, but unfortunately, that wasn’t something we had access to right now.  
Honestly, if the rest of my team wasn’t able to keep Tony occupied long enough for me to get to Amora and disarm her….we might be really screwed. After all, the suit could take out everyone but the demi-gods among us practically instantly. 

Myself included...

Yeah, it was probably a bad sign that I was more worried about what it would do to him if he ended up hurting me than I was worried about actually being hurt. 

Deep breaths, Langley. Panicking sure as hell isn’t going to make this go any smoother.

“Heads up. Target approaching from the east road. No backup in sight.” 

I took a deep breath. Everything is going to be fine. We have a lot of backup, eyes everywhere. Amora has power, but no idea how to really use it. That had to count for something.

“Anyone got eyes on Stark?” another agent asked.

A chorus of ‘No’s and ‘Negative’s echoed back over the airwaves and my unease grew. Enchantress had only even _taken_ Tony for this. He was a fighter, the best one we had in this realm right now. 

There was just _no way_ that this was what it looked like. Amora wouldn’t approach like this: unarmed, unassisted and with no plan. This was a trap, or she had some sort of insane magical bullshit up her sleeve. 

Probably both. 

“Do you see the eye?” I asked, directing my question to anyone willing to answer it. 

“She has transformed it into a crown.” Loki answered, the distaste in his voice telling me he thought that was the absolute tackiest thing she could have possibly done with it. I was inclined to agree it _was_ a bit on-the-nose. 

It would make snatching it off of her easier though. A belt, a necklace, a bracelet, _hell_ even stuffed in her goddamn pocket would have been a lot more difficult. 

“What’s she doing?”

“Just walking. Approaching your mark.” an agent replied.

“I’m not moving until she shows her hand.” 

Suddenly I could hear Amora speak, as if from the end of a tunnel, over Loki and Thor’s com channel. 

“Long time no see lover,” she cooed, all condescension and malice. “Where’s the girl?”

“She--” Thor started. 

“What does it matter?” Loki interjected, his tone biting. “You proposed a trade. It is time we knew the terms.” 

“Hmmmm?” She purred, “I do not think so. Anthony warned me the girl would be a problem. I would see her now. I would know my _competition._ ”

Gross. Everything she said made my stomach sour. 

“And if we refuse?”

I winced, here came the plot twist. Time to see what she had up her sleeve. 

“Boys!” she called out, and all at once I heard the Shield agents reacting over the coms. Gasps and warnings, and one rather cliche _‘we’ve got company’_. It didn’t take a genius to guess what had happened. 

Amora had planted people here, probably before we even spoke to her this morning. We had searched the area, sure, but it was a _town._ There were all sorts of nooks and crannies to hide a body away in. She’d had her own small, mind-controlled army stashed away, just waiting for the right signal. 

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“How many are there?” I hissed, looking back into the depths of the room I’d been hiding in as if one was going to emerge from the depths. 

There was a bit of chatter over the comms before something like a consensus began to form. 

“Eighty, maybe a hundred.” 

“You’ve _got_ to be shitting me?”

“She controls a weapon once used to lead armies on Asgard, consider yourself lucky she has not had more time to master its use.”

“OK….” I took a deep breath, “Ok, Thor took down thirty Shield agents earlier, no problem, and these are probably just normal guys. We’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, right?”

“Should we open fire?” I recognized the voice of the Strike team leader. 

“No! God no, they’re innocent people. Use tranqs. or shoot to disable if you have to. But jesus christ, don’t _kill_ them.”

“Bring out the girl.” Amora insisted, clearly getting impatient. “Or I _will_ start killing people. Mine or yours. I’m really not picky, and I anticipate you’ll be bothered either way.” I could practically _see_ her examining her nails and flipping her hair. Who knew Asgard had ‘mean girls’. 

OK. Deep breath. Let’s go. 

“Ta-da.” I heard my own voice say weakly, and I sagged back against the gritty wall in relief. Right. Illusions. Loki had my back. 

“ _There_ you are. Not quite what I was expecting. You aren’t much to look at, are you dear? I have to say -- the way he talks about you -- I’m a little disappointed.” 

“What do you want?” My voice insists. Amora’s clearly trying to get a rise out of me, but as long as Loki’s driving that trick isn’t going to work anytime soon.

“Him.” she says simply, nodding her head towards the two Asgardians blocking the main road. 

“Thor. You want Thor?” Mirror-me asks, voice full of the confusion I’m feeling myself, “I hate to tell you lady, but I think that ship may have sailed. Like, when you betrayed him and got him kicked out of Asgard. There’s not really any coming back from that.”

I had to admit, Loki was doing a pretty passable impression of me. Impressive, if not a little creepy.

Though Amora was clearly less moved by the snark, “Not _Thor_ , you simpleton. Loki. There is no one else on this realm or any other I know of that has discovered a way to slip between worlds as he has. Nor have I ever seen another evade Heimdall's gaze. I would have those secrets, and then you will have your man.”

That made a creeping sort of sense, actually. Earth was a very limiting realm to someone of her power and ambition. If Loki passed those secrets on to her Amora could find somewhere more suited to her tastes and never even have to fear pursuit. 

We definitely couldn’t let her have it. 

I just had to wait for a---

I heard the sound of repulsors at the same time Shield agents started calling out Iron Man sightings. One idiot fired a gun, but luckily I didn’t hear Tony shoot anything back in return. 

“No heat signature. It isn’t her.” Tony had turned the voice modulation in his suit back on. It made it impossible to tell anything about how he might be feeling. 

“Illusions, Loki?” Amora sneered, “You should know better.” 

“You would have fallen for it if it weren’t for your lap dog.” 

Should I reveal myself now? Tony could tell illusions weren’t me, but finding me wouldn’t be so easy. The agents were pretty spread out and heat signatures were all but identical through walls. He’d have to investigate them all individually in order to find me, or just get unreasonably lucky. 

Unfortunately I don’t have time to think. Don’t have time to plan. 

Clearing my throat and swallowing down the nerves I speak up, “Someone drop a smoke bomb and everybody move in.” waiting just long enough to hear the subtle _‘tink tink tink’_ of a canister dropping in the street before bolting out from my position. 

I could only hope the other agents were doing the same, that the influx of heat signatures would be a confusing enough distraction for us to gain an edge. 

Seeing through the smoke is almost impossible, but thankfully breathing isn’t as difficult I would have guessed. I could see shapes close around me, most of them fighting...though it was all but impossible to differentiate between Amora’s army and my own allies from more than an arm's length away. 

Not like I had time to stop and help anyways. It wasn’t going to take long for the smoke to dissipate, and I need to get to Amora fast. Need to get the ahold of the Eye. 

She’s practically on the edge of the smoke when I find her, almost all the way through -- clearly trying to escape the fog. It couldn’t be more obvious she isn’t a warrior from the way she stumbles, coughing and disoriented -- rubbing at her eyes. Wearing a designer dress on a battlefield and looking for all the world like a helpless victim. 

A helpless victim with a mind controlled army, and a priceless magical artifact on her head. 

There’s a slight bit of shimmer to the air around her, probably some sort of defensive spell -- but it does nothing to me as I step harmlessly through it. There’s only a yard or so between us now, maybe two. A few more steps and I can just reach out and grab it. 

“Allow me to present a counter offer.” I say, calmly, trying my best to mimic her haughty tone. Then I lunge, fingers wrapping around the arch of the thing and just _tugging_ as hard as I can.

At first it seems like there’s something wrong. It hadn’t even occurred to me the damn thing might be magically attached, or that somehow Amora might be too fast to react and my strength couldn’t match hers. But all it takes is one more good tug and a yowl from the witch and the damn thing comes free --- along with several thick chunks of her hair. 

I stumble back as Amora reaches out for me, snarling, but her fingers can’t quite get purchase on my uniform as I slip out of her reach -- turning and starting to run, artifact grasped tight in my fist. This had just officially become the world's most intense game of ‘keep away’. If I could get the Eye far enough away from her for long enough we would be home free.

Well….we’d still have to capture her. But somehow I doubted one magic wielding Asgardian would be much of a challenge without her enhanced abilities. 

Behind me Amora shrieks and the ground behind me explodes. A missed blast of magic? I'm not even sure I would notice if she _did_ hit me with something. All things considered. 

Around me the whole fight seems to be moving in slow motion as I make my way towards my goal: the blind alley at the end of the street. We’ve parked one of the vans down there. The best option I have for putting fast distance between the Eye and Amora. 

Maybe if I was thinking clearly it would have occurred to me that this was too easy. That there was no _way_ Amora would just let me go like this. Sure, people were chasing me, and even if I made a clean getaway the fight was far from _over_...but if I hadn’t been so alight with the thrum of victory I might have stopped to think: what about Tony?

Instead, all I could think was that I’d made it. Just a few more strides and I’d be ---

The van explodes. 

I stumble back, uncomfortably close to the flames. Knowing, before I even turn around, that the way back is going to be blocked.

I’m closed in now. Fire on one side, Iron Man on the other. And from the growing sound of fighting drifting in from the street, help probably isn’t going to be coming anytime soon. 

My immediate instinct is to reach for the bracelet, hoping that Tony wouldn’t even be naive enough to give me something --- even something to protect myself ---- that would harm his reactor. 

“I'm guessing asking for backup would be pointless?” I breathe into my com, barely able to hear my own voice through the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.

No one answers me. A gun fires somewhere back in the street. 

“I'm supposed to stop you.” Tony’s voice comes out, toneless and distorted, sounding like someone dispassionately reading lines for a play. “No one leaves until we get what we came for. Return the Eye and surrender now, so I don’t have to hurt you.”

Ok. Bracelet. EMP the suit and then I can ----

I'm still fumbling the thing about halfway out of my Shield belt when Tony apparently figures out what I'm doing. There's no warning before the suit knocks me sideways, into the already crumbling wall of a building and I can feel my shoulder protesting. _God,_ he moves fast. 

I'm hurt, but not injured. He's holding way back. Probably as much as he can. Still, _Ouch._

Still, I can feel almost my entire right side protesting as I push back onto my feet. The bracelet is in pieces a few feet away. The individual gems still look functional, thank god. 

I dive for it, barely closing my hand around one of the gems before he advances on me again, knocking the device out of my hand and pinning me firmly to the wall. “Call off your--” he starts in the same dead tone he used before. 

But he’s already made an important mistake. My hands are still free, because he doesn’t think I can do any damage with them. After all, the suit is basically missile proof, so the small arms I’m carrying aren’t a threat. Let alone some LARP’y looking hammer. Well… _surprise._

Grabbing Mjolnir from my belt, I swing as hard as I can at the side of the armor, hoping the magic of the weapon is enough to compensate for my definitively-less-than-superhuman strength. Turns out it is, but not by much. 

The suit doesn’t exactly go flying, but Tony does stumble backwards with enough force to knock halfway through the wall on the other side of the street. That's more than the opening I need. 

Tony is still climbing to his feet when I hit him with the EMP, walking harmlessly through the generated force field I don't need. The suit goes dark and practically ragdolls, but the light in his chest hasn't so much as flickered… thank god.

There isn't really any time to waste. As much as I wish I could stay: makes sure he isn’t hurt, make sure he knows that none of this is his fault, that I would never blame him… 

I need to go help the others. Even if I did have time to stay here and comfort him, to have our tearful reunion….I’m betting the suit will start to come back online soon. And if Tony gets back up, he isn’t going to be on our side. 

_Damnit._

So, as gently as I can, I bend down to set Mjolnir on his chest. I may not be able to remove the enchantment, but I can stop him from doing anything else he’ll regret. It will keep him out of the rest of the fighting, if nothing else.

Then, with a deep breath to steady myself, I take one last long look at him, drop a quick kiss on the mouth of the faceplate, and run right back into the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good luck to anyone out there working on NaNoWriMo. :)
> 
> Tony will be back next chapter, I know, I miss him too.

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I am honestly trying to keep the angst light in this whole series, but I'm so prone to writing it I can feel it creeping in places -- do you think I should add the tag?


End file.
